Initiative, Loads and Loads of It
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: Post HBP. Tonks gets the nerve to do something she knows Remus never will.


_Muchos gracias to the seester and to Lori._

* * *

She was in love. He was in love... they were in love.

And...

Nymphadora Tonks was suspicious as of late, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He would smile at her openly, hold her hand, pull her into his embrace, hold her, and hold her and make her believe that he was never going to let her go. But she knew him, knew him down to the very core, knew every singular fiber of his being, and Remus Lupin was not a certain man.

Well... he was, just not when it came to her.

He tended to run hot and cold; at times, he was far too dangerous to be around, thinking that he would harm her, damage her, destroy her. But other times he would catch her off guard, have his way with her against a wall, spill out terribly meaningful words against her skin and then clutch her as though he could melt into her. He'd claim that he was counting the minutes until he could see her again, and he'd spin such wonderful endearments that for a bit, she was swept up in the romance of it all.

The man she'd wanted, the man she craved, giving himself over to her. But then came the hasty retreats in the nights, the goodbyes without the accompanying kiss.

When he began leaving things around her flat and dropping by at all hours to "retrieve" them, she knew that she'd gotten him for sure. The fifth time he had showed up (two o'clock in the morning) looking haggard, she had already had his scarf waiting and had shoved it at his chest, eyes light but posture rigid. "You can take that ratty thing and you can leave," she said forcefully, though her voice quivered, just slightly. "Or you can stay," there was a flare of hope in her eyes and he may have seen it.

And there was no question that 'stay' meant more than just until morning.

"S'not ratty," he murmured as he balled it up in a fist and walked inside. And she'd never been more happy in her life.

Apprehensive was how best to describe him, those first few weeks he was around her. His touch was gentle, reverent, as though when he did so she would break. The way he kissed her, as though he'd never be able to do it again. He looked at her like she was the only thing he wanted to see. Curled around her every night, clutching too tight, she wondered if it was all too good to be true, if the cup-half-full would soon empty.

And it did, with a request from Dumbledore. Tonks almost hated him for it, hated him for taking Remus away, but she knew that he wouldn't have gone if the headmaster didn't need him; he wouldn't have gone if it wasn't vital to the cause. And that as well, his utter determination to what was right and good, was one of the things that she fell in love with.

When Remus had returned from his assignment with the werewolves, he'd been surprisingly willing to resume their current relationship. The moment he had appeared at the door to her flat, much skinnier, slightly more scraggly, but no more worse for the wear and fell into her body, she was sure that he'd finally come to his complete senses: he needed her, and she likewise.

It took her nearly three weeks to get the entire story out of him, how he was forced to prowl the countryside for weeks, how he had to watch the pack slaughter innocent muggles, how he had to narrowly escape his own death at the hands of Greyback, after he refused to rip apart a husband, who was forced to watch his wife die. Remus sweat and shivered as he recounted his experiences, clutched her hand in his until he nearly snapped it off.

_As she pushed the hair back off of his forehead as he wound his tale completely to its end, his eyes slid closed and he whispered, "I loved you so much while I was away, it very nearly killed me."_

_Her cool palm on his forehead, "Loved?" She'd longed to touch him for month, just to feel his skin, to be absolutely sure he was alive. _

_Remus's eyes slid open, and his other hand came up to cradle hers, "Love, love." There was something haunted in his voice, something that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle up at attention._

_"But you came back to me," she choked out, unsure, sliding down next to him on the bed, the bedclothes wisping all around them. "You did, Remus, didn't you?" _Didn't you?_ she wanted to scream, shake him, throttle him until he came to his senses._

_Hand on the side of her face, Remus managed to push the ruddy brown hair out of her eyes. "Yes," came his ragged whisper; just inches apart, she could feel his warm breath on her face, see each individual eyelash on his lids. "You're a patient woman," he claimed, a little smile on his lips. He swallowed and searched her gaze, for what, she didn't know._

_"Only for you," and he barely heard that, because she had spoken it against his lips, just a flutter of words against his mouth._

_His hand came to rest upon her neck and he moved back, just a little, to look at her. "I tried, I did, to stop, I... against better judgment and, all I thought about was you, what I hadn't said to you, what I needed to say..."_

_There was a distinct swelling in her chest, something bubbling and rising and moving and it took all of her power to squeak out, "Tell me, say it." Their eyes met and just like that-_

_"I'm so very much in love with you, Nymphadora Tonks."_

Since that evening, they had lived in relatively peaceful cohabitation. Remus was still learning how she liked to organize her kitchen, and she'd had to expand her bathroom in order to accommodate another person, but other than that, they'd had no problems outright. No problems that didn't have to do with the Order... and the Ministry... and the war, that is.

It was one day, as he was brushing his teeth and fumbling about attempting to explain to her about the Muggle stock market, spitting toothpaste all over her _and_ her mirror... that she realized that she wanted him in her life forever. Tonks wanted him spitting toothpaste over all of her things, rearranging her pantry when he thought she wasn't looking, folding her undergarments when they came out of the wash. She wanted everything, all of him, all of the quirks, idiosyncrasies, flaws. And she wanted people to know, wanted to scream it from the highest peak on the planet that he was hers.

So she did the only thing she could think of: she resolved to marry him.

Surely he knew she wasn't a lady in the classical sense; she paid for dinners and wore clunky boots and preferred men's sweaters to women's. She wasn't likely to skirt around an argument or wear an apron while cooking a meal (if she ever cooked _at all?_) or fuss over her hair and makeup. They were equals and she felt as though it wouldn't be entirely out of line for her to propose to him.

Actually, it would be appropriate; he wasn't likely to pop the question (_ever_) and so she took it upon herself to do the deed.

Tonks purchased rings and fussed over just _how_ to do it; she thought of taking him out to a nice dinner, but that was too cliche. At one point, after a particularly exuberant bout of lovemaking, it almost slipped out, but he'd smothered the question with a kiss. She whispered it to him one morning in the kitchen, but he hadn't had his tea and had grumbling, slinking away, not having heard her.

She simply couldn't find a perfect moment to ask him.

And so, in true Nymphadora Tonks format, she sought an _imperfect_ one.

Her stomach was tied into knots and _those_ knots tied into knots but still, she allowed her hand to stray into the pocket of her baggy jeans and run her fingers around the cool smoothness of the bands. She'd brought them tonight with a purpose: if she knew they were there, with her, she'd have to do something about them. If she had them with her, there was no more hiding, because when he kissed her, he tended to put his hands on her hips, just over where the pockets were and he'd feel them and surely call her on the foreign lump beneath his hand.

That was why Tonks was currently slinking about one of the back hallways at the Burrow cracking her knuckles and pacing. 'This is _it_', she'd been telling herself over and over and over and yet her palms continued to sweat, her mouth was still dry. She wondered, idly how one part of her body could be so moist while the other felt like the Gobi.

She listened as his voice carried into the hallway; he was discussing the finer points of Wolfsbane potion with Bill. He sounded so certain, so sure, and she wondered if he'd ever speak that way about her to anyone. Running her teeth against each other she sucked in a hard breath and swallowed, petrified.

With resolve, Tonks straightened her back and marched into the kitchen of the Burrow and waited until he looked over at her. He was engaged in a deep conversation with Bill, who was assisting Molly with dinner. She swallowed hard and tapped her foot on the dusty floor, waiting, waiting. Her head was throbbing, spinning; she was wondering if this was the wrong way to do this, if she should do it at all... oh, Merlin, what, what, _what_ was she thinking, really?

After a moment, Remus's gaze flickered away from the the other werewolf and fell on her. Brow screwed up in confusion, he swung a leg over the bench, as to straddle it. "Dear?" Her face was a hard mask, that was why he was worried, but if she dared to wear any other face, she was sure her nerves would get the best of her.

Tonks took long strides around his side of the table and licked her lips. She looked quickly around the other inhabitants of the room: Molly was smiling, barely. Ron, Fred and George were perched around the doorway, watching on. Arthur had just rounded the corner and paused, one foot about to cross the threshold. Again, she swallowed and shuffled a little closer to him.

Ron sneezed and Tonks blinked, startled; then, time stopped.

Doing her best to move around in her high, clunky boots, she sank down on the floor, one knee up and one down, and wriggled her right hand into the tight pocket of her dark denim skirt. Yanking her arm out, she held it in front of her, hand still balled into a fist. She looked up into his frightened eyes and finally... smiled. "Marry me," she whispered and opened her hand, revealing two, dark gold bands.

Molly squeaked, dropping the pot she was holding, causing everyone to jump at the resultant 'clang'.

Slowly, his eyes grew wide and the hands that had been resting on her knees began to dig into his robes. "I, excu- what?"

Her mouth had gone even _more_ dry (if that was even possible) and she'd begun to sweat, everywhere; squeezing her eyes shut, she found her store of resolve and heaved out a large sigh. "You're the only person I can imagine being bonded to life for, I want to be bonded with you." He blinked at her, eyes still ridiculously wide, as he stared at her out from under a flap of unruly hair. Tonks quickly reached up and pushed it back.

"I want you forever, no question," she concluded, and could almost feel everyone in the room holding their breath.

Remus looked... well, frightened, and as his gaze flicked from her to the people around the room, he began to quiver but only she could tell. "Nymphadora..." he whispered when he turned back to her. "I think..."

She shook her head vehemently, clutching at him even harder. "Don't think, just answer." Don't _think_," that was the problem, he did tend to think to much and at this point it was-

"For life?" he asked her.

"For life," she replied, easily.

"Well then..." he swallowed thickly, as she had just moments before. "I suppose that would be alright."

Molly gasped again, Ron began to giggle and Bill continued to stare on wide-eyed. Tonks looked much the same as the older Weasley, her eyes having taken on the appearance of saucers. "I'm sorry," she said, flustered, "what?"

On a whim, he smiled at her, "I said, 'I suppose that would be alright.'"

Tonks's head swam, the knots in her stomach unknotted themselves and a tide of relief flowed through her body. "Oh, well... oh." And they remained stationary, staring at one another in awe until Molly broke the tension, clapping her hands excitedly.

"You're engaged!" she shrieked and it seemed to snap everyone in the room back into the moment. Tonks lifted one of the rings and jammed it onto his finger, causing him to cringe.

"Sorry," she breathed before she slapped the other band into his hand and watched emotionally as he slipped it onto her finger. "So... wow, you said... yes..." she whispered to him, tuning out the tumult around them.

Remus shook his head, "Noooo... I said alright..."

She stood, grinning, and slid next to him on the bench and placed a gentle kissed on his lips, "Well, you git... close enough."


End file.
